


Anchored

by orphan_account



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Children, Amnesia, Childhood Memories, Closeted Character, Flashbacks, Gay, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insanity, M/M, Memory Loss, Sad Ending, dream - Freeform, i forgot ray existed whoops, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27755965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It's 3am when Gerard's woken up.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Kudos: 7





	Anchored

It's 3am when Gerard's woken up. 

He groans, rolling over and automatically reaching out to shut his alarm clock off. It’s only after a few seconds that he realises the alarm hasn’t gone off in the first place… strange. He never wakes up in the night. 

Rubbing his eyes and yawning, he pulls the covers back up over his head and tries to relax, to go back to sleep. There’s a nagging thought in the back of his mind, though, and somehow he knows that he won’t be sleeping tonight. And to add to that, there’s the unnerving feeling of being watched that sends crawling shivers up the back of his neck. 

After only a few minutes, he realises what woke him up to start with. Someone is knocking on his door. Not gently, either - they’re knocking like they’re trying to dig the wood out with their knuckles. Gerard bolts upright and slides out of bed as the covers fall to the floor. He grabs a dressing gown from the back of his door before walking out into the hallway at the top of the stairs. 

Shadows dance in the corners of his vision, spelling out grotesque messages and twisting into impossible shapes. He blinks, trying to clear his eyes, but it does nothing. The only sounds are the relentless knocking at his door and the pad of his bare feet on the carpet. He goes to flick the hallway light on - nothing happens. A sense of unease starts to rise at the back of his throat, and the inside of his wrist begins burning with an odd sensation. He rubs it absent-mindedly. 

The knocking gets louder, more desperate, and Gerard’s hands start shaking. Dark is all he can see - dark and shapes that start to grow and swirl in the hands of an overactive imagination. He can’t stop himself as he starts to move forward, stepping down the stairs one at a time. His feet feel like lead, his eyes are heavy and his body is not his own. The mirror at the bottom of the staircase is lit up by a sudden flash of lightning, and the person he sees there looks like a stranger. A ghost from the past that he can’t quite name.  _ This must be a nightmare _ , Gerard thinks. 

He nears the end of the staircase. There’s something in front of him - he reaches out to touch it. It looks a little like a cloud, and his hand comes away wet. Mist. Or rain, even. Everything looks black and white, as do all of his dreams, and he draws in a sharp breath as he walks into the living room. The nightmare is getting worse by the second as the figure outside of the window looks in. 

Gerard shakes his head, trying in vain to wake up.  _ This is a nightmare this is a nightmare this is a nightmare this is a nightmare _ is the only thing running through his head right now, but he knows it’s not true. There’s something about the figure that’s familiar, that’s so  _ real _ that this can’t be a dream. Gerard steps closer to the window, his whole body shaking in barely-contained fear. A single tear runs down his face and splatters onto the floor. 

The figure looks up and then Gerard can remember everything. 

\--- 

“Frank? Hey, Frankie!” 

A younger,  _ much _ younger Gerard races towards the end of the headland, sights set on the figure at the end. His hair streams out behind him as the clouds gather above. There is another boy in front of him, sitting cross-legged on the grass and staring out into the sea. A cautious wind blows between them as the foam from the sea below dances in the air. 

“Hey - are you okay?” Gerard asks as he sits down next to the boy, panting a little. The other boy looks away from the sea. His hair reaches his shoulders, a bruise is spattered across his cheek, and his eyes look older than his years.

“I’m fine…” he says uncertainly. Gerard raises an eyebrow. 

“Are you sure?” he says. 

The boy, Frank, shakes his head. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I… I… don’t know. I just - I don’t feel right. My tummy’s all weird, and my bruises hurt,” Frank admits. This time when he speaks, you can hear the lisp in his voice. His cheeks flush red and he looks down at his hands. 

“It’s okay, I feel that too.” Gerard falls silent, staring out at the sea for a second. “Is that all?” 

“I think so.” 

But it’s not, Gerard can see that. There’s something else he wants to say. “Hey, you can trust me with anything. I won’t tell anyone - and you don’t have to tell me - I just don’t want you to be sad anymore.” 

He reaches out to wipe away Frank’s tears but only succeeds in poking him in the eye. Frank giggles a bit and pokes him in the stomach in retaliation. Inevitably, a tickle fight begins as the two boys collapse with laughter. 

“Okay, okay,” Gerard giggles, bright-faced from laughter. “Are you -” 

“I think it would be easier if I… if I maybe wrote it down.” Frank reaches into the backpack beside him and pulls out a battered pad of paper, leaning over it to try and shield it from the rain that is just starting to fall. The mood is suddenly sombre. Gerard hands him a chewed pencil and he starts to scribble something down with shaking hands. Somewhere above them, a gull cries once in the darkening sky. 

“Here,” Frank says as he tears the paper out of his pad. A few raindrops are sprayed across the page. It's barely legible, written in a sprawling script and peppered with spelling mistakes. Gerard takes it nervously and starts to read it. 

_ I don’t know what’s happening because I’m scared all the time of my dad and of the kids at school and of my mom and even of Jasmine because she barks loud and it’s making my stomach hurt and sometimes I can’t breathe and I’m really scared and I don’t want you to go away because you don’t scare me and I think you’re my best friend and I don’t want you to go away but I’m scared that I’ll make you go away like the others went away and I don’t want you to go away but I’m scared that the lady will tell you you have to go away and Miss Thompson says I have to talk to the class but I can’t because when I do my throat feels funny and I start making funny noises and I don’t want you to be scared of me because I’m not scared of you but I’m scared that you’re scared of me and I don’t know what’s going on because the lady says that I have to try to tell her how I’m feeling but I don’t know how I’m feeling apart from I feel funny and I wish I wasn’t scared but it’s making me even more scared because I’m scared of being scared and I don’t know what to do but  _

“But what?” Gerard says quietly. “Oh, Frank - hey, it’s okay.” 

The other boy starts sniffling, then crying, then he’s sobbing into Gerard’s hoodie and all he can do is hug him closer. It’s started raining properly now, the fat drops splashing down into the sea below them. Some of it catches on Gerard’s eyelashes and starts to run down his face, and that’s all it is because he’s not crying, he’s got to be strong for his friend. He can feel Frank’s laboured breathing through his hoodie, and he reaches out to hold his hand. Frank squeezes it back gratefully. 

"Who - who's the lady?" Gerard asks cautiously. 

"She helps me because I talk funny. And she helps me when my tummy feels really bad and when I feel bad for ages. And when -" He stops talking abruptly, staring determinedly at the ground.

“Do you - do you want to talk about it? My mom says that when I feel bad, I should talk about it. It - it doesn’t matter if you don’t want to -” 

“My dad says that I’m bad. And he says ‘Fuh - Fuh -’” Frank gulps for air and shakes his head. “He says ‘boy, you’re - you need to - you need to snap out of it’, and sometimes when the - the lady says I haven’t been doing so good with my talking he yells at me and he’s really scary sometimes and he says ‘boy, you need to - to grow up and be a man and learn - learn some respect.’ And he says stuff like - like about the lady and he says he says he says nasty words about her and he says stuff about by the time I was - he was  _ my _ age he was - was - was -” 

Frank stops talking, tears still streaming down his face and mixing with the raindrops. He stares at Gerard. “He says it’s for my own good. And I - it’s not bad for him to yell at me. Because he’s doing it for my own good.” 

Gerard doesn’t say anything. His eyes travel to the bruises on Frank’s face, to the way his hands shake and twist in a nervous knot, to the way his chest heaves in and out like he’s just run for miles without a break. “I don’t think it’s good,” he says quietly. “I think your dad is a bad man and what my mom says you should do about bad people is stop talking to them and go and tell someone about them. And you told me about your dad and I think that’s good, but I think we should talk to someone else about him because I don’t think you deserve to be yelled at all the time and even though dads are supposed to be nice and friendly and cook barbeque on Sundays in summer I don’t think your dad is like that and he shouldn’t be allowed to be your dad.” 

“I don’t know. Because Dad - Dad’s nice most of the time and without my dad I wouldn’t be able to do anything. So it doesn't matter if he yells.”

Gerard thinks about the last time he was yelled at properly. There were a few older boys, that much he remembers, and they stole his bag and hit him in the stomach. He remembers it hurting a lot, and his mom went and told the school and the big boys were kicked out. “I think that people who yell at other people aren’t nice at all. And if your dad yells at you all the time then he’s not nice. Do you think your mom would help?” 

Frank purses his lips and shakes his head vigorously. 

“Why not?” 

“Because.” He reaches down to the bottom of his jumper and pulls it up to reveal a fading bruise stretching along the bottom of his ribs, curving around his side and stopping just before it reaches his back. “My mom tried to say something but he just got angry and he - he got  _ real _ angry with me.” 

“Oh…” Gerard bites his lip. “That - that looks - ” 

“It doesn’t hurt so much anymore.” 

A gull cries again and Frank jumps, a tiny squeal sounding out to sea. Gerard freezes. 

“Are you -” 

And then Frank starts laughing, nervously at first but then dissolving into roaring chuckles. Gerard laughs along too, confused. 

“Do you want to go down to the beach?” he asks once Frank has calmed down. 

“Uh -” Frank thinks for a second. He doesn't know  _ why _ he started laughing, exactly, but he has a feeling it had something to do with ‘if I don’t laugh I’ll start crying again’. “It’s a bit late -” 

“I promise it won’t be long. I found something really cool yesterday when I was down there with Mikey,” Gerard says, standing up and sliding his coat back on. Not that it’ll do much good - the rain is pouring down now, and his coat is already soaked. “I think you’ll like it.” 

Frank’s fingers dig into the dirt and he squeezes his eyes shut, thinking hard. “I - I - uh… fine.” 

Grinning back at him, the taller boy offers a hand up. Frank nods gratefully and grabs it, hauling himself to his feet and then brushing his soaked jumper down. “Thanks.” 

“No problem. Now come on!” Gerard doesn’t let go of his hand as he starts to race down the headland, towards the path that leads to the beach. Frank starts laughing as the two of them reach the stairs, then stops abruptly, seeing how steep and slippery they are. 

“Uh - Gee, is this safe?” 

“Just hold on to me and you’ll be fine,” Gerard reassures him. He nods slowly and tightens his grip on his hand. Cautiously, carefully, they make their way down to the pebble-covered beach that stretches out below the darkening sky. 

“There - are you alright?” Gerard turns back to Frank once the two of them are standing on the pebbles. He nods and offers a small smile. “Cool. Over here!” 

His trainers skitter over the slimy, seaweed-covered rocks as Gerard weaves his way toward a skeletal shape in the distance. His hair is plastered wet to his scalp, and he doesn’t even notice he still hasn’t let go of Frank’s hand. The shape starts to loom closer, closer, and a smile creeps across his face. “We’re nearly there!” he calls. 

“Okay!” Frank calls back. He’s nearly tripped twice now, his trainers catching on the rougher rocks, but he hasn’t said anything about it. 

“Look!” And Gerard comes to a stop in front of the bare bones of a rotting wooden rowing boat plunged nose-first deep into the tiny area of sand. 

“Woah… that’s awesome, Gee! What’s inside?” A few flickering lights from inside the boat catch Frank’s eye. 

“You’ll see.” 

Gerard crouches down, letting go of the shorter boy’s hand as he peers inside the boat. There’s a drape of fabric across the entrance which he pushes aside. “Are you coming?” 

Frank purses his lips and crouches behind Gerard as the other boy’s feet disappear behind the fabric. He shakes his head before following him into the wreckage of the boat. 

“Pretty cool, right?” 

Frank’s eyes light up at the sight before him. Candles (fake ones, Gerard wouldn't want the boat to burn down) are scattered across the dry sand inside the boat, cushions spread everywhere and a blue tarpaulin ties across the ceiling that stops any rain getting in. Gerard crawls over to the other side of the boat and falls back into a sitting position, grinning. 

“Woah - I - I - I love it!” Frank shouts. “Can we just live here from now on?” 

“We could go fishing every day to get food and we could play all the time! And no-one would find us because this is the best hiding place ever, and we could make it into a little house and we could have dogs and cats and a little fish, and we could paint it all the colours of the rainbow!” Gerard yells. 

“Yeah!” 

The two boys grin at each other, excitement flushing their faces and brightening their eyes. Frank crawls across the tiny space to sit next to Gerard, the rain hammering away on the roof. “What should we do first?” 

“Huh?” 

“If we’re gonna live here, what should we start off doing?” 

Gerard looks over at him. “Frank - I was joking.” 

“Well,  _ I _ wasn’t! I want to live here.” 

“But we can’t - we need to get back anyway, else my mom’s gonna be cross with me.” 

“But…” Frank’s face falls. "I thought we - we would run away!" 

"I can't run away. Sorry. Maybe we can run away tomorrow?" Gerard offers hopefully. 

"Yeah… maybe…" 

A thought hits Frank suddenly and he slaps himself on the forehead. "Stupid! Stupid!" 

"Hey, what's -" 

He turns to Gerard, rolling his eyes. "I left my rucksack behind." 

"Oh - we should go get it. But we can come back tomorrow, and we can run away then too!" 

"Sounds good." 

The two of them crawl out of the boat and into the pouring rain. Frank shivers, wrapping his sopping wet jumper closer around himself before standing up and turning to Gerard. "Sorry - I'm stupid." 

"No you aren't. Now come on, let's go!" Gerard grabs his hand again and they both start back towards the stairs. It's almost fully dark now, and they have to squint to see any further than a few feet in front of them. Neither of them see the figure on the headland as they race to the steps. 

Frank gets there first. By now he's dragging Gerard behind him. His shoulders are shaking and his lungs are burning - it's cold and wet and he doesn't like it. "Come on!" he calls as he starts walking up the stairs, clutching the railing and the other boy's hand as they both clamber up the switchback path. At one point, both of them nearly fall to the ground below, but Gerard manages to snag the railing before they go tumbling down. 

"Are you okay?" And this time Frank's the one who's asking the question as both of them reach the top. Gerard nods, teeth chattering. 

"Where did you leave it?" 

"Just over -" 

Frank stops dead. He freezes, his hand tightening around Gerard's. His eyes widen and his heart starts to pound faster and faster, his stomach flipping into the funny feeling again and his legs starting to shake. 

"Frank?" Gerard asks. "Are you -" 

And then Gerard sees what Frank is looking at. No, not what -  _ who. _

A figure is facing their way. An adult, a man, a wide-set adult man with a sprawling stance and hulking shoulders. Neither of the boys can make out his face, but both of them know who it is. 

"Frank!" the figure roars, starting towards them. "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!" 

Frank starts crying, still frozen in place. His shoulders are shaking and tears stream down his face as the figure gets closer. He's holding a flashlight in one hand and a kid's backpack in the other - Frank's backpack. And as Frank’s dad gets within a few metres of them, his face comes into view. Twisted in rage and snarling like a rabid dog. It's that rage that snaps Frank out of his daze - he starts to move. 

"COME BACK HERE, BOY!" his father roars. "IT'S FOR YOUR OWN -" 

"Stop!" a voice cries. Someone grabs onto his sleeve. "Stop!" 

His father looks down to find Gerard hanging on for dear life. "And is this your boyfriend, eh?" he snarls. "I always knew you were a -" 

"SHUT UP! Frank, RUN!" Gerard yells, dragging his father back away from the boy. Frank doesn't move - he's frozen like a rabbit in the headlights. "Frank!" 

"Get back here, boy," Frank’s dad says quietly, his voice taking on a whole different demeanor. He shrugs Gerard off and walks up to Frank. 

"I - I - I - I'm sorry, dad!" Frank wails. "Please don't -" 

"That's my boy," he whispers. "Now, you’re gonna come home with me, okay?" 

Frank nods silently, tears still streaming down his face. Gerard tries to stand up, but he slips in the mud and falls face-first into it. He spits out a mouthful and yells, "LEAVE HIM ALONE!" 

"SHADDUP!" Frank's father yells, a silhouette in the light of the torch. 

"I don't - I don't care! You leave him alone! My mom says that you should  _ never  _ hit someone else, and - and you're a nasty man! And you should stop now or - or - or -" 

"I know what's best for my son, I'll have you know. Now shut the  _ hell  _ up or I'll -" 

And then something inside Frank snaps. 

He twists out of his father's grip and lunges towards Gerard. "Stop - you have to stop -" he tries to say, but nothing comes out. The two boys fall to the floor. 

"Frank… what did I tell you?" his father says as he walks towards the two of them. Frank is breathing heavily, hands scrabbling in the dirt and eyes wide and animalistic. Gerard can't move, can't move, can only watch the figure grab Frank and pull him away. 

"WHAT DID I TELL YOU?!" he roars. Frank is sobbing, screaming even, twisting and writhing in his father's grip. "WHAT DID I TELL YOU, BOY?!" 

"Yuh-yuh-yuh" Frank tries, face contorting with the effort and spit flying everywhere. "Yuh-you told -" 

"ENOUGH! I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU! YOU WORTHLESS, DISRESPECTFUL PIECE OF CRAP! YOU NEED TO LEARN SOME DISCIPLINE!" Frank's father hoists him over his shoulder, still kicking and screaming and pummeling his fists against his back, and starts walking towards the edge of the headland. As he walks past Gerard, still lying frozen on the floor, he spits on him and sneers. 

"I PROMISE I WON'T BE BAD ANYMORE!" Frank screams. "I PROMISE I WON'T!" 

Frank's father stops abruptly and lets him fall to the ground. "You are going to stay right there now, boy, and you are going to learn some RESPECT!" 

Gerard tries again to move, but some animal self-preservation instinct is still in control of his body and he can't move, oh God, he can't move, and he tries to get up again but he can't move as Frank tries to run, but he can't move either and then Frank's father grabs his foot. 

"STAY RIGHT THERE YOU LITTLE - ! STAY RIGHT THERE OR I -" 

And then Gerard can move again. 

"STOP!" he cries, throat raw. "STOP!" 

Frank's father doesn't stop, though, he lifts Frank again and grabs Gerard too, and then the world is upside down for the both of them and all either of them can see is the sea, the sea stretching and glittering in the moonlight, and it's beautiful and terrifying and that one moment seems to freeze into forever and the two of them are anchored in time but time moves on and Frank's father is angry, angry,  _ angry _ and there is a roar of noise and then Gerard falls to the floor again and looks up to see Frank screaming as his father slams him into the ground and starts to hit him, again and again and again and then Gerard is screaming too and Frank wants it to be quiet but it's loud and it hurts and he's shaking and he rolls to try and get out of the way of his father sorry sorry sorry dad and he doesn't realise how close to the edge he is and then oh God he's falling down and his father doesn't even care he just stands up and leaves and Gerard tries to grab onto Frank but he catches his arm instead and Frank's fingernails dig into his wrist and it hurts and it stings and he can't quite hold on to him and then oh God he has to let go and then he can't look anymore because Frank is his best friend and and and and and and and and and and and and and- 

\--- 

Gerard doesn't tell anyone about Frank. 

Frank's father knows he knows, but neither of them make a move to confront the other. There are missing persons reports in the papers and the lady who Frank talked to wants to speak to Gerard, but Gerard pretends to be sick so he doesn’t have to speak. He doesn't understand why he doesn't tell anyone, but he thinks about it a lot as he rubs the scar on his wrist where Frank's fingernails dig into his skin. It's shaped like a lopsided sort of anchor. 

He spends a lot of time in the boat at the beach, just staring at the wooden walls and rubbing his scar and thinking. And the funny thing is, he doesn't cry. He doesn't know why. 

People seem to forget about him after a while. Life goes on, but Gerard is stuck in the past, anchored in time by the loss of his best friend. He blames himself, in a way - it was his fault that they didn't go home when Frank wanted to, and if they hadn't gone to the boat, then his father wouldn't have been mad at him. 

And then life moves on for Gerard, too. He turns eighteen and he moves away from the seaside town he grew up in, he moves to New York and starts a band - and it's a pretty good one, too (even though he kinda sucks at guitar). His job takes over his life as Frank fades from the picture. 

Gerard gets married to a beautiful woman he loves a lot, and they have a baby on the way when the beautiful woman tells him she doesn't love him anymore. The baby is born, a little girl called Bandit, but Gerard doesn't get to see her that often. Because Gerard, whether he knows it or not, is still stuck in that one moment all those years ago. 

\--- 

And as soon as he remembers it, it's gone again and it's three in the morning and Gerard is wondering why the  _ hell  _ he's standing in his dressing gown facing the front door. 

A knock jerks him out of his daze and he walks to the door, yawning. "Yeah?" he mutters. 

There's a man there, a man with blue-dyed hair and a lip piercing. A man with a lot of regret in his eyes, and something else too. And a man that Gerard thinks he might remember from somewhere, but he can't put his finger on where. 

"I - Gerard?" the man whispers. "I - I thought it was you - when you were on that magazine -" 

"Sorry, but who are you?" 

"I - you don't -" The man stops and nods sadly. "Of course." 

"What's going on?" Gerard asks sleepily. "Look, can I go back to sleep now? I'm tired."  _ Weirdo, _ Gerard thinks.

"Sorry. I thought… I thought you were an old friend." The man smiles sadly before turning away from Gerard. His sleeve rides up as he walks away, revealing a small tattoo of an anchor. 

An old friend, indeed. 

**~ fin ~**


End file.
